The Haunted Hotel, by Wilkie Collins

Chapter 15

(MISS AGNES LOCKWOOD TO MRS. FERRARI)

‘I promised to give you some account, dear Emily, of the marriage of Mr. Arthur Barville and Miss Haldane. It took
place ten days since. But I have had so many things to look after in the absence of the master and mistress of this
house, that I am only able to write to you to-day.

‘The invitations to the wedding were limited to members of the families on either side, in consideration of the ill
health of Miss Haldane’s aunt. On the side of the Montbarry family, there were present, besides Lord and Lady
Montbarry, Sir Theodore and Lady Barville; Mrs. Norbury (whom you may remember as his lordship’s second sister); and
Mr. Francis Westwick, and Mr. Henry Westwick. The three children and I attended the ceremony as bridesmaids. We were
joined by two young ladies, cousins of the bride and very agreeable girls. Our dresses were white, trimmed with green
in honour of Ireland; and we each had a handsome gold bracelet given to us as a present from the bridegroom. If you add
to the persons whom I have already mentioned, the elder members of Mrs. Carbury’s family, and the old servants in both
houses — privileged to drink the healths of the married pair at the lower end of the room — you will have the list of
the company at the wedding-breakfast complete.

‘The weather was perfect, and the ceremony (with music) was beautifully performed. As for the bride, no words can
describe how lovely she looked, or how well she went through it all. We were very merry at the breakfast, and the
speeches went off on the whole quite well enough. The last speech, before the party broke up, was made by Mr. Henry
Westwick, and was the best of all. He offered a happy suggestion, at the end, which has produced a very unexpected
change in my life here.

‘As well as I remember, he concluded in these words:—“On one point, we are all agreed — we are sorry that the
parting hour is near, and we should be glad to meet again. Why should we not meet again? This is the autumn time of the
year; we are most of us leaving home for the holidays. What do you say (if you have no engagements that will prevent
it) to joining our young married friends before the close of their tour, and renewing the social success of this
delightful breakfast by another festival in honour of the honeymoon? The bride and bridegroom are going to Germany and
the Tyrol, on their way to Italy. I propose that we allow them a month to themselves, and that we arrange to meet them
afterwards in the North of Italy — say at Venice.”

‘This proposal was received with great applause, which was changed into shouts of laughter by no less a person than
my dear old nurse. The moment Mr. Westwick pronounced the word “Venice,” she started up among the servants at the lower
end of the room, and called out at the top of her voice, “Go to our hotel, ladies and gentlemen! We get six per cent.
on our money already; and if you will only crowd the place and call for the best of everything, it will be ten per cent
in our pockets in no time. Ask Master Henry!”

‘Appealed to in this irresistible manner, Mr. Westwick had no choice but to explain that he was concerned as a
shareholder in a new Hotel Company at Venice, and that he had invested a small sum of money for the nurse (not very
considerately, as I think) in the speculation. Hearing this, the company, by way of humouring the joke, drank a new
toast:— Success to the nurse’s hotel, and a speedy rise in the dividend!

‘When the conversation returned in due time to the more serious question of the proposed meeting at Venice,
difficulties began to present themselves, caused of course by invitations for the autumn which many of the guests had
already accepted. Only two members of Mrs. Carbury’s family were at liberty to keep the proposed appointment. On our
side we were more at leisure to do as we pleased. Mr. Henry Westwick decided to go to Venice in advance of the rest, to
test the accommodation of the new hotel on the opening day. Mrs. Norbury and Mr. Francis Westwick volunteered to follow
him; and, after some persuasion, Lord and Lady Montbarry consented to a species of compromise. His lordship could not
conveniently spare time enough for the journey to Venice, but he and Lady Montbarry arranged to accompany Mrs. Norbury
and Mr. Francis Westwick as far on their way to Italy as Paris. Five days since, they took their departure to meet
their travelling companions in London; leaving me here in charge of the three dear children. They begged hard, of
course, to be taken with papa and mamma. But it was thought better not to interrupt the progress of their education,
and not to expose them (especially the two younger girls) to the fatigues of travelling.

‘I have had a charming letter from the bride, this morning, dated Cologne. You cannot think how artlessly and
prettily she assures me of her happiness. Some people, as they say in Ireland, are born to good luck — and I think
Arthur Barville is one of them.

‘When you next write, I hope to hear that you are in better health and spirits, and that you continue to like your
employment. Believe me, sincerely your friend — A. L.’

Agnes had just closed and directed her letter, when the eldest of her three pupils entered the room with the
startling announcement that Lord Montbarry’s travelling-servant had arrived from Paris! Alarmed by the idea that some
misfortune had happened, she ran out to meet the man in the hall. Her face told him how seriously he had frightened
her, before she could speak. ‘There’s nothing wrong, Miss,’ he hastened to say. ‘My lord and my lady are enjoying
themselves at Paris. They only want you and the young ladies to be with them.’ Saying these amazing words, he handed to
Agnes a letter from Lady Montbarry.

‘Dearest Agnes,’ (she read), ‘I am so charmed with the delightful change in my life — it is six years, remember,
since I last travelled on the Continent — that I have exerted all my fascinations to persuade Lord Montbarry to go on
to Venice. And, what is more to the purpose, I have actually succeeded! He has just gone to his room to write the
necessary letters of excuse in time for the post to England. May you have as good a husband, my dear, when your time
comes! In the mean while, the one thing wanting now to make my happiness complete, is to have you and the darling
children with us. Montbarry is just as miserable without them as I am — though he doesn’t confess it so freely. You
will have no difficulties to trouble you. Louis will deliver these hurried lines, and will take care of you on the
journey to Paris. Kiss the children for me a thousand times — and never mind their education for the present! Pack up
instantly, my dear, and I will be fonder of you than ever. Your affectionate friend, Adela Montbarry.’

Agnes folded up the letter; and, feeling the need of composing herself, took refuge for a few minutes in her own
room.

Her first natural sensations of surprise and excitement at the prospect of going to Venice were succeeded by
impressions of a less agreeable kind. With the recovery of her customary composure came the unwelcome remembrance of
the parting words spoken to her by Montbarry’s widow:—‘We shall meet again — here in England, or there in Venice where
my husband died — and meet for the last time.’

It was an odd coincidence, to say the least of it, that the march of events should be unexpectedly taking Agnes to
Venice, after those words had been spoken! Was the woman of the mysterious warnings and the wild black eyes still
thousands of miles away in America? Or was the march of events taking her unexpectedly, too, on the journey to Venice?
Agnes started out of her chair, ashamed of even the momentary concession to superstition which was implied by the mere
presence of such questions as these in her mind.

She rang the bell, and sent for her little pupils, and announced their approaching departure to the household. The
noisy delight of the children, the inspiriting effort of packing up in a hurry, roused all her energies. She dismissed
her own absurd misgivings from consideration, with the contempt that they deserved. She worked as only women can work,
when their hearts are in what they do. The travellers reached Dublin that day, in time for the boat to England. Two
days later, they were with Lord and Lady Montbarry at Paris.